Sailor here.
Mom says that the real joy in life comes not from large successes but from those small things that make being alive on this planet truly meaningful. To me, this means finally getting that click and treat, like today in dog school when I Stood for Exam and didn’t move even when Mom’s friend who was playing Judge touched me all over. Good Sailor.
Mom’s small triumphs have been many lately. Josie the FatCat ate a whole chicken neck. And this morning she even ate some of her veggie glop disguised with salmon oil and a little canned cat food. Mom is thrilled. Josie is trying to be calm about it; she’s a cat after all and can’t be seen to be too excited about mortal interests especially if they’re spelled BARF.
Mom also discovered a pin brush with enormously long pins that makes brushing my shaggy coat a breeze, so she says. I feel no tugging, no pulling, no ouchies, especially on my kilts, and no breezes, either. We usually don’t have breezes on the grooming table, but I find that Mom is rarely if ever wrong. This must be another of those figures of speech that so confuse me at times.
Another small happy thing that came to us is our freezer. Mom drove the Dog Car away last weekend and picked the freezer up and drove it home. Then all by herself, she wrestled it into the garage and strung the extension cord along the ceiling, pounding with nails as she went, and plugged it in. It hummed to life and in less than an hour was ready for my chicken legs, emu necks and whole rabbits and turkey necks and lamb breasts and oxtails. These meaty bones were another of Mom’s triumphs, since Mom says she got them for a song and now figures that she spends less on the BARF diet than on the old premium kibble diet. Mom, for good reason, does not sing all the time, but I guess she wasn’t that out of tune and charmed the butcher. This is a good thing.
Mom thinks we’re beginning to sound like Martha Stewart here. But I bet Martha never backed over HER turkey backs with the car to crunch them up for her dogs. Mom says she probably does raise her own organic emus, though….
Mom’s small triumphs have been many lately. Josie the FatCat ate a whole chicken neck. And this morning she even ate some of her veggie glop disguised with salmon oil and a little canned cat food. Mom is thrilled. Josie is trying to be calm about it; she’s a cat after all and can’t be seen to be too excited about mortal interests especially if they’re spelled BARF.
Mom also discovered a pin brush with enormously long pins that makes brushing my shaggy coat a breeze, so she says. I feel no tugging, no pulling, no ouchies, especially on my kilts, and no breezes, either. We usually don’t have breezes on the grooming table, but I find that Mom is rarely if ever wrong. This must be another of those figures of speech that so confuse me at times.
Another small happy thing that came to us is our freezer. Mom drove the Dog Car away last weekend and picked the freezer up and drove it home. Then all by herself, she wrestled it into the garage and strung the extension cord along the ceiling, pounding with nails as she went, and plugged it in. It hummed to life and in less than an hour was ready for my chicken legs, emu necks and whole rabbits and turkey necks and lamb breasts and oxtails. These meaty bones were another of Mom’s triumphs, since Mom says she got them for a song and now figures that she spends less on the BARF diet than on the old premium kibble diet. Mom, for good reason, does not sing all the time, but I guess she wasn’t that out of tune and charmed the butcher. This is a good thing.
Mom thinks we’re beginning to sound like Martha Stewart here. But I bet Martha never backed over HER turkey backs with the car to crunch them up for her dogs. Mom says she probably does raise her own organic emus, though….
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